There once was this guy, Little Johnny Bright Eyes, and he wanted to be the president.
So he announced to everyone who could hear him that he wanted to be the president.
But, his whimpers were drowned out by the death of real presidents:
- First, James Brown, the president of soul and funk died on Christmas day. Showstopper to the end.
- Then, president Leslie "the lynch man" King, the lucky SOB who was president, died from being just plain too damn old.
- Then, Bush the mope president watched in revengeful glee while the man who tried to kill his daddy was hung in his own country by his own people for running his own damn country.
Oh, Little Johnny Bright Eyes, where are you when we need you with all your "two Americas" talk? Oh, Little Johnny Bright Eyes, were are you?
